Falmer Forgiveness
by Tuprewm
Summary: I suck at summaries: An Altmer woman, reading about the Falmer, becomes curious about them, and begins to seek answers to cure them from their blindness, hoping that it would turn the creatures back to being as they were, Snow elves. She becomes attracted to one of her subjects, which leads her to want the cure more. F/F. M for future chapters. Will be fluffy. Hiatus for 4 months.
1. Research

She slipped out of the doorway, unperturbed of the dwarven sphere at her doorway. She almost laughed at its carelessness. It hadn't noticed her the past dozen times she'd walked by, and she wasn't even very great at sneaking. An Altmer wasn't good at sneaking. She was good at spells. She smiled to herself, moving past the motionless dwarven construct.

It was time to assassinate yet another falmer, to get food. Her stores were dwindling, and they were the only food available. As much as she hated it, it was a necessity. The only food here was the flesh of her cousins, warped as they were, and the taste of the meat sickened her. It couldn't be helped, though, as the mushrooms were deadly to ingest, as she had found in a history book long ago.

She was a younger Mer, so she learned from books and her elders, some of which were there when the Falmer were cast down. She shook her head. The snow elves didn't deserve it. But now, because of it, they were twisted. It was a saddening thing to see. The way the Dwemer had twisted these once graceful and beautiful creatures into blind shadows of themselves. It was a depressing thought. But, she needed to get on task, to move to where the Falmer were. There was an encampment close to where she was, and the scouting Falmer were usually easy to kill.

She froze as she heard a crunch of dirt under a boot. She turned to look, her amber eyes glistening in the light glow of the cavern. Behind her was another one of the once proud elves. She would have to find some way of killing it without her dagger. The sound of pulling it out would surely alert the pale-skinned creature.

The thing in front of her hissed quietly, then growled, uttering a string of syllables that was alien to her. It sniffed once, shook its head, then bounded off, its mettalic boots crunching on the pebbly dirt of the floor of the cavern. She dared not let out a sigh of relief, as the slightest of sounds could alert one of the quick-eared beasts. She slowly crept back, into a crevice, then drew her dagger stealthily, waiting for a moment when the time was right

One came along an hour later. It didn't hear her until her dagger was in its throat, silencing its screech with its enchanted blade, pulling out and stabbing again. Thank the gods for her strange enchanting learning. It had saved her life. That silence enchantment was useful. She also had learned a nifty alchemical potion to mask smell. She unbottled it and let the liquid drip down around the dead creature.

She picked up the dead creature, grunting quietly as she placed it over her shoulders and walked to her small, temporary residence in these halls. She lowered herself, sneaking, even though she was sure the thing couldn't see her unless it was up, but she didn't want to test that.

Once inside, she took her knife out, tossing the thing onto the metal slab that served as a table, slicing through its gut fits, pulling out the innards and tossing them into her fireplace, chopping off the head and placing that in the stone hole as well, a fire spell following after to burn the disgusting things to ash. She set to work slicing its skin into strips, casting a preservation spell on each one, to ensure that it didn't rot, and catching the blood in a large urn. Her operation complete, she took the bones and ground them, mixing the blood with them to create paste, then added the meat, shredded by her knife, to create her sustaining, if revolting, rations.

She sighed, pulling out a strip of meat. At least this one had the decency to provide her with a usable skin. She pulled her knife out, carving it to make the general shape of a water skin, taking some thread and stitching it together, badly. Leather working wasn't her strong suit. She shuddered, as she had the first time she had to resort to eating the Falmer. She preferred not to think on the fact that they were her cousins, that she was cannibalizing them, but she knew what she was doing... And she knew that she enjoyed it, if only a small amount.

She had fancied finding the cult of Namira, but she couldn't, and the one in Cyrrodil, though more open, wouldn't take someone as beautiful as her. The ideas of the cult fascinated her. The descent into the dark, the foul, that was a heady sensation, but one that she was scared to fall into. She had been thruster into it, though, and maybe that was what she had needed to follow her deeper desires. The Daedra supposedly could reach out to those they wished, and she was sure Namira did so with her.

She sighed, eating the strip of meat. Now would not be the time to ponder on it. Now would be a good time to get some sleep, and as much as she loathed it, a tomorrow filled with more reading on the Falmer. That book she had found had been invaluable, but it was so dry... But she told herself she would read it, so she would.

She ran her fingers over the sheet on her bed, then later down on it, her eyes closing and her mind drifting off to sleep. Her last thought was that while being dragonborn was fun, this was more relaxing, more enjoyable. It was more fulfilling, as if she was following her true purpose.

* * *

She woke, yawning, still tired from last night. She sat up, grabbing her cup and trudging to her urn, opening it and dipping the cup in, gathering the blood inside. She drank quickly, frowning at the taste. There must have been some older blood in there. She shook her head. Oh well.

She closed the urn, moving over to the ancient time on the Falmer, currently opened to the eighty second page. It was currently ending a chapter on Falmer clan organization, and she would be glad of finally finishing it. Being one of only three books she had, she had chosen the most difficult one first, to pass the time.

She read each word individually, copying down the translation in another, smaller book. The book she was reading was massive. Hundreds of pages, large as some shields, it took up quite a bit of space on her study table. She had already used one book and two vials of ink to make the translation, and broken one quill. It was slightly annoying, how unwieldy the thing was, but it was what she had to deal with.

A passage caught her eye, referring to the clan system and how the leaders were chosen. The book seemed to state that the creatures chose leaders based off of the most wise and learned, rather than the strongest. That must have come from their ancient elven heritage.

The book went on to describe various dry points, such as the court, and other menial descriptions. Something she didn't care for, but still wrote down. "Sevena, why do you torture yourself?" She asked herself ruefully, smiling and shaking her head. She continued reading and translating, on the last page, when she turned to the next.

Falmer Mating Customs and Falmer Territory. Oh, wow. They got straight to the point there. This would be an interesting chapter, to say the least, especially considering- Yes, that was an illustration depicting the females anatomy. If this section was as illustrated as the other one, then it would be interesting indeed. She giggled like an immature girl.


	2. Encounter

Sevena blushed at yet another description of the mating customs of the Falmer. She was right, it was a very interesting chapter, but it was also very descriptive, which embarrassed her to no end. It had started out okay, just talking about anatomy and the requirements that a male needed to get a mate, but it had just gotten into sexual... Stuff.

She closed the book, stepping over to her alchemy station. Now was not the time to be reading that. Maybe after she calmed down her libido. She began mixing paralysis potions, something that might be useful, if she ever wanted to investigate a live Falmer. She placed the poison in her potion belt. That was four poisons that were useful, and two potions.

She placed the belt on its hangar, moving to her bed and collapsing on it. She didn't have anything to do. She could try and capture one of the Falmer, but there was no reason to... And that book...

She sighed. It was time to open one of the other books. She grabbed the one that looked like a journal first, its leather binding creaking as she opened it. She scanned the first page of writing, then set it down again. No language she knew. She took the other book, this one thankfully written in the imperial script. Something easy to read. She flopped back down on her bed, turning the page.

"A history of the Dwemer, what they did to the Falmer." Everything was about the Falmer, it seemed. Well, at least she would know more about what she was going to be hunting.

The Dwemer, as she already knew, were a form of bearded elves, that vanished long ago. No one knew why, they just did. Again, common knowledge. But, as she read further, the book talked about the way the Dwemer had been especially good at conjuration, and it was conjectured that they were in Oblivion somewhere. It was an unknown theory, but it was plausible.

A scrape outside her door made her close the book, listening. The sound of the doors levers turning alarmed her, and she snatched her elven dagger up, a Ice Bolt spell on her lips, the glowing blue orb in her palm pulsating

A Falmer walked in, a bow over its shoulder, its eyeless face turning, sniffing to catch her scent. It growled low, pulling out a blade at its side. A dwarven blade, obviously plundered. It scratched out a few words of a strange language, but stayed where it was, in front of the door. Right in the way of her sneaking out.

Her ice bolt flashed out, but was parried by the creature, who immediately charged her. She called another spell to hand, casting it over the creature

The pale skinned, former elf stopped, looked around, then stalked towards her again. Okay, Calm didn't work, and it had too good of reflexes to fight it... Hopefully, she could manage to scratch it with the paralysis on her dagger.

Before she managed to move, the creature tackled her, keeping her pressed to the ground, still snarling, speaking in its language.

"I don't know... I don't know..." She was frightened out of her right mind, trying to get the twisted elf off of her. Her struggling was useless. In fact, worse than useless, as the Falmer bit her, savagely, with its sharp teeth, to get her to stop moving.

"Kahk-ghuta, Likikmeran." It growled at her, its fearsome face contorted in anger. It stood, growling, sniffing around the room, stepping to her skinning table, smelling the dead Falmer recently killed. It hissed, touching its fingers to the blood and bringing it to its mouth. It turned back to Sevena. "Likikmer. Ahg-ganni. Ahg-gagallikinmer"

She stood, leaning on the wall, surprised she wasn't dead yet. The creature was trying to communicate to her, that was obvious, but it's language was much different from her own. She tossed her dagger to it. If it wanted to kill her, it would have already.

"Ahk-ihg-" it grabbed the dagger, sniffing it and running its hands over it. "Likikmeran kavu. Likinmeril kati." It tossed the dagger back to her.

It sniffed one more time, then sat down in her chair. She cautiously moved to her study desk, opening the large book and turning to the contents section. "Falmer language... There."

The section began with the old Falmer lettering, which she skipped, moving straight to the language itself. It talked about the similarities, then got to the word structure. Each word was composed of multiple sections. She looked through the words to find what she wanted to say.

"Likikmeril lissta-ich." This other elf doesn't want to kill. That was what she thought she said, at least. The Falmer referred to themselves strangely. They had no personal pronouns, but they separated themselves from other elves in their speech.

"Likikmeran shak-ezkata?" The creature lowered its weapon slightly, but still kept it ready. "Likikmeran ahg-garignak?"

She again turned to the book for how to say she didn't know how to speak its language. "Eh- Likikmeril kechich-ich." That should work.

The creature stepped closer to her, taking a deep breath of her scent, nodding. "Likikmeran ahki." Again, she had no idea what it said, other than "you other elf-", then something she couldn't understand. The creature stepped away from her, sniffing around the room. It took on last sniff of her, then nodded to itself, walking away, out the door.

She collapsed on her bed, terrified and confused. She should have died to the creature, food for an ever hungry species. But she didn't.

She took her paste out, swallowing some of the gruesome mixture, the taste becoming more and more appealing to her. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She knew the blinding mushroom was probably in their blood, but it also was something that she needed to survive, and she wasn't going to chance eating any fungi in this cave.

She also knew, that someday, if she ever got out, she would be more open to the dark idea of cannibalism, which scared her to no end. Cannibals were monsters in the land of Skyrim. In all of Tamriel. They were feared, and their practices were revolting. But the flesh still wasn't all that bad, taste-wise. She would have to hide it.

She laid down, slowly letting herself sleep, confused and frightened at her intruder.

Authors note: if any of you find any of my stories to be even remotely good, say something. I don't know. I've always considered myself mediocre at best.


	3. Bonding Time (Don't do this at home)

Authors note: Yeah, I know this story's weird, but bear with me. I'm writing it the way I see it needs to be. From now on, I won't be using my nonsense Falmer to communicate, I'll just use regular speech, with unrecognized words being 'words she didn't recognize' or something similar, so, yeah. I'm fairly sure this won't be popular, but I'm not writing it for the masses. I'm writing it for the select. So don't complain that its creeping you out! Its s'posed to, because I'm sick! Hehe... Not really, but you get my point. Oh, and drug use in this chapter, so... Yeah. Deal with it. She's an addict, but not to skooma. Because I'm weird, and I create strange characters.

Sevena keeps her dagge easily within reach as she quickly builds a small book of phrases, just so she can communicate if one of her twisted cousins invaded her home again, because since that one- And she couldn't get out, the Falmer had moved their camp to be between the exit from Blackreach and her. There were other exits, but any other ways would trigger that damn dwarven sphere. She sighed. As much as researching the Falmer was nice, it was disheartening to not feel the sun kiss her face.

She stood, closing her eyes and sighing. It was time to light another fire. She stepped over to a small chest, pulling some roots from the bag. They had a restorative effect, and mixing in a few other alchemical ingredients would create a pleasant euphoric feeling.

She shook her head. Addiction was a bad thing, but... Luna moth wings and vampire dust were such... They created the strangest, most ethereal feeling, from their invisibility effects. She knew too many drugs. She could probably be a very effective drug dealer, because of her alchemical knowledge, but... That would leave her to heave less for herself. Too bad she didn't have daedra hearts. Those were... Oblivion knew how to make high end hallucinogens.

She let the fire burn, looking over into the chest. She was starting to run out of materials. She had enough wings, those were easy enough to get, but the dust- She didn't know of any vampires. Oh well. That wouldn't matter because... Because of the way she was floating.

Wow. Every time, like all the things in the room became sharper, easier to see. She stood, rolling her neck, her senses heightened from the drug. Heightened enough to hear the feet padding to her door, but- Strangely, that didn't worry her. She was so... Relaxed. She just wanted to sit down. So she did, the brazier filling the room with gauzy smoke. The smoke was pretty.

The door opened, and the strangest being walked in. It was this little, stooped creature. It was kinda funny to see it shuffle over to her. It mumbled a few words, sniffed, then stepped back, waving, almost falling.

"Oh don't fall. The floor will hurt." Her mind was dulled when she took it. That was the only annoying thing, but that was okay, she just used it to relax, not when she actually needed to think quickly.

The creature snarled something at her, shuffling away quickly. It rubbed its nose, shaking its head, then flopping on the floor. It looked at her, making this strange cross between a whine and a growl. She laughed, it was funny to see the Falmer confused.

"Come and sit down." She said before she rethought her language. The creature probably couldn't speak elvish. She had to find that damn book. She grabbed it. Nothing about sitting. Get the big book.

"Come and sit." She said, or thought she said.

The creature shambled over to her, fading in and out, slumping in a chair beside her. It was really getting hit hard. Hopefully it didn't die. That would be sad. She'd heard of some people having sensory overload because of it. That one girl she'd done this once with... She almost went into shock, but hey, the girl thanked her for it, so it must have been enjoyable.

The creature sniffed her again, reaching for her arm, touching it like it was gold, its fingers floating in a way that her heightened senses found kinda nice. Even if it was an ugly creature doing it. And the thing wasn't even all that ugly, just a little messed up from that damn mushroom.

She closed her eyes, letting the euphoria wash over her. It was nice to not have to deal with studying, even if the former elf was touching her arms like it was some sacred object. While it felt good, it felt kind of creepy. But she let the Falmer do it.

She felt herself falling to sleep and felt a moment of panic at the Falmer in her room, but relaxed into oblivion anyway.

* * *

She woke, leaning on the animal. "Oh gods... Did I? I did. I used drugs... On the..." She pulled away, or tried to, but was stopped by the Falmer squeezing her back to it. It had wrapped its arms around her... Almost- Cuddling her. That was strange, especially because of how uncomfortable she was. Even more so because she mildly enjoyed it. That was that daedra, Namira's fault. Finding things foul that attracted her. It wasn't as if the Falmer were ugly, they just were... Twisted.

The Falmer spoke into her ear. "This elf will go." It stood, unwrapping its arms from her and shuffling away.

She closed her eyes, thinking. What- What if there was a way to cleanse them? Make them see again? She'd heard some radical theories back at the college, but... It could work, possibly. She nodded. She'd look it up... But first, she'd have to get to the surface. Time to plan.

By the time she was finished laying out her plan, she was starving again, and stood, grabbing more paste. Time to eat more of the stuff. She grabbed a cup of blood from her urn, drinking that down as well. She shuddered, in delight or disgust she couldn't tell. It was too sweet, too sour, too mixed, to be perfect, but it was. She shook her head. It wasn't the time to think that.


End file.
